


2D's Petting Zoo

by Marsh_Daisy



Series: "What Time is it in Darwin?" [3]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: F/M, Humor, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marsh_Daisy/pseuds/Marsh_Daisy
Summary: The title says it all, really. Actually, it doesn’t explain why. Or how. Maybe you should just read it. For the ducks if nothing else.
Relationships: Noodle/Stuart "2D" Pot
Series: "What Time is it in Darwin?" [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069307
Kudos: 4





	2D's Petting Zoo

Back to- normal. 

As Murdoc once pointed out to 2D, "You may have noticed that actually a lot of what happens to us isn't exactly normal, moron."

So it's not a word to be tossed around lightly.

Russ decided to head to New York when Frankie, Babette, and Kimberly did. Maybe he had "Live at the Apollo" on his mind again. He also mentioned bringing his "Hobb's Hot Sauce" business to the states. They've been having a rough go over there, and he thought some good hot sauce might cheer them up.

Murdoc locked himself in the studio for a couple of weeks, leaving 2D and me to ponder two things: what would this mean for us musically? And what exactly was he using for a bathroom? Then he disappeared again. To his credit - pains me to say it - he left a note. It was addressed to me. 

"Have to make myself scarce. Thought it best to tell you so you don't lose your shit like you did over Russ. Tell thicky I've gone if you like- and if you value your life stay out of my room. -M"

I was cranking songs out and reading environmental blogs. I started contributing to one occasionally. Use of the portals had widened my horizons considerably. I had a vision of a world united to preserve the few unspoiled areas remaining, and restore a balance by re-creating destroyed habitats.

2D bought a duck.

******************

In spite of the fact that we now had the entire house to ourselves, we still kept our own rooms. It's important for people to have space. Murdoc would have preferred 2D's space to be somewhere in Antarctica. But everyone needs a place to call their own. 

It's true we were wearing a path in the carpet from his door to mine, but it's better this way. 

It was fun to play house, just we two. I got him a children's vegetarian cookbook and he was working through it one section at a time. Which, while admiringly methodical, did cause some issues: three weeks of nothing but appetizers, two weeks of nothing but salads, three weeks of soup- I was looking forward to the dessert section.

We drove out to visit his parents frequently. I enjoyed gardening with Mrs Pot. A garden is an environmental microcosm. Every chemical in the soil, every insect, every drop of water plays its part. She also sent baskets of fresh veggies home with us - of particular use while 2D was still in the salad chapter.

He started helping his dad with the amusement park again. It began with repairs on some of the equipment. Then he did some painting - brightening up the rides and creating murals on the sides of the gaming booths. He's an artist with a spray can; when he was younger he wanted to grow up to be Banksy.

Maybe working at the fun fair is what gave him the idea he presented to me a few weeks after Russ and Murdoc left.

******************

He came home with the duck on a peaceful Sunday afternoon. He had gone to get ice cream. I spruced up behind the house, pruning some bushes and washing off the lawn furniture, waiting for my cookies and cream.

He came around the side of the house with a grocery bag damp with condensation. "Did you want some right now?"

I pushed my hair out of my face. "Yes, please. I'm about done. I have no energy left."

"Right then. I'll dish us up. Mind the duck while I'm gone please."

Duck?

Duck. It was standing behind him, peeking from behind his long legs.

He walked into the house.

The duck remained. 

I eyed it warily. It cocked its head and eyed me right back. Then it started to waddle about, peering at plants, nibbling the furniture, and keeping a respectful distance from Mrs Bunty.

2D returned with a dish in each hand, and held mine out to me.

"Is there an explanation for this?" I asked as I accepted the ice cream.

He looked at my dish. "Only that's the kind you asked for? Did I get it wrong?"

"The duck." I said quietly.

He brightened immediately. "It's from that farm just past the turn-off! There was a sign that said 'ducks for sale' and I took that as a sign that I should buy a duck."

Sometimes I walk a very thin line between wanting to support him and wanting to hold on tight to any remaining shreds of logic and lucidity in our lives. I was teetering.

He came to sit next to me on the chaise. "We got this idea - the duck and me - that what we don't have around here is a petting zoo! I mean there's the Battersea one. And the one in Kentish Town. There's Regent's Park, too, I guess. But we don't have one right exactly here."

And I’m over the edge.

I stared at the duck again. It stared back.

"That's a pretty small start."

"All great business ventures start small," he said loftily. "Plus we already have Mrs Bunty, so we've got a pretty good start, actually."

"I'm not sure Mrs Bunty is petting zoo material. She tolerates us, but I can't see her letting children touch her."

"The babies’ll love it. Murdoc's been snuggling them for weeks." He patted my leg. “You’ll feel better about it once we have a few more ducks.”

******************

The duck was here to stay.

2D headed back out and hit up the Countrywide near Chiswick. He came home with a feeder, grain, straw, and a huge galvanized tub. He also had a large dog kennel tied on to the roof. He went to Pets Company in Richmond for that. He cleared out the shed, placing all the yard tools along the side. Then he gave it a vigorous sweeping. He went to and fro with his duck-related sundries and by tea time he had everything in place. There was a box with straw for her nest, the hopper thing filled with grain, a bowl of chopped vegetables, and the tub filled with water. The kennel surrounded the door of the shed so the duck had a place to waddle around safely. She made for the pool right away, so I guess that saying is true. 2D stood sweating in the late afternoon sun, surveying his one creature menagerie.

"She looks very happy," I told him, coming over to hold his hand and admire his work. 

She really did. She dipped her head and shook it about, and fluttered her tail-feathers. She hopped out and inspected the shed and took a nibble of grain. Then she waddled back over to the pool and settled down next to it. She was the picture of contentment.

"She does, doesn't she?" He smiled and squeezed my hand.

"How did you know to do all this?"

"Well, I looked at some pictures and I asked the nice fellow at the feed store. I told him how I was going to make a petting zoo and after he finished laughing he was right helpful."

He gazed proudly at his work.

"See, it wouldn't be that much to add some more ducks and a couple goats and rabbits, and some sheep and a pony."

My heart sank a bit. "Well, let's just get the duck settled for now. Have you given her a name?"

He thought for a moment. "I was gonna go with Ducky, but then I thought when I get more of them it could get confusing. Would you like to name her?"

"I think she looks like a 'Penelope'," I offered.

All evening he scrolled through pictures of small animal farms and made notes. He went out back to check on Penelope several times. 

"2D?" I ventured, "shouldn't you discuss this with Russ and Murdoc? It's kind of their house, too."

"Yeah, only I texted Russ and he said I must follow my dream. Or that I must be dreaming. Something like that. And I dunno where Murdoc is, right? So he's got only himself to blame, really."

******************

That night I knocked on his door. "Can I have a sleepover?"

He put down his phone and patted the bed. "Can we do up our hair and talk about boys we like?"

I snuggled up close. "We can do anything you want."

"I was going to show you the sheep I got picked out."

“Not what I'd been thinking, but okay.”

He picked his phone back up. "I made an album out of them. See, these ones are Romney. They just look like regular sheep. Like if you asked someone to draw a picture of a sheep, this is what they'd draw. Then these are Welsh blacks. Scare the hell out of me. Don't want them. But these little blokes- these are called 'Babydoll'. Cutest little things. Anyone would want to pet that, right?"

“They are adorable. I can see people wanting to cuddle one of those.”

"I guess I should get more ducks, first, though. I don't want Penelope to get lonely."

"Did you close up the shed?"

"Yeah, she's all tucked up safe. Should I get more of the same or try a different duck this time? I need to check on that-"

He started to enter another search, but I gently took the phone from him and set it on his desk. "I might have come in here for another reason than to talk about ducks."

"Sorry. Doesn't count as foreplay?"

"No. Would you like a demonstration of what does?"

As an answer he kicked all the blankets off. 

I climbed into his lap and lifted my face to his. He kissed me softly. I smoothed his hair back to kiss him just below the ear, and then along his neck to his shoulder. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he pulled me closer and slipped inside. Then we were lost in our own rhythm.

I leaned my head against his chest and listened his heart beating. I wanted to hear that sound forever. He stroked my back as he held me, and both his pace and his heartbeat quickened. I hit my peak just before he did. He shivered and tightened his grip on my hips. We stayed linked together for a few minutes, just kissing and holding each other.

I lay down beside him and he pulled the blankets back up, tucking them in all around us. Snug and cozy. We stretched out, staying as close as possible. I felt his heartbeat and wondered if he could feel mine. I wondered if he wanted to feel it forever, too.

******************

More ducks did indeed arrive first.

The duck he brought home - Penelope - was a Pekin. He had referred to Romneys as the type you would draw if asked to draw a sheep; one can say the same of Pekin ducks. He brought home another of those, and two more that looked like flapping, flopping bowling pins. 

"Those are khakis," he said, watching them run around the duck yard.

"So it's casual dress day?" I asked. 

He gave me a puzzled look. "No? They're ducks."

"It's because- never mind. They're kind of cute."

"Cute is what it's all about here."

Yeah, it was. I stood back and watched him. When he's excited by an idea, he gets this glow. It's beautiful.

A couple of days later Mr Pot showed up with a truck full of chicken wire and metal posts.

The day after that the zoning inspector showed up with a desist warrant.

The day after that we drove home from town with the permit in 2D's pocket. He very proudly nailed it to the post that held the mailbox. Then we bathed his thumb in ice water and bandaged it.

All of his experience at his dad's funfair was of tremendous advantage here. Oddly enough, a man who could barely walk across a room without tripping could piece together trailers and sheds and feeders and fences with no difficulty. He sketched out locations for each animal paddock, with petting areas. He made lists and notes and drew little pictures of ponies in the margins.

Mr Pot helped nearly every day. He contributed popcorn and candy floss machines. He brought over a wooden ticket booth, but 2D explained that entrance to the zoo would be free. Mr Pot blinked uncomprehendingly a couple times. "People can donate if they like, but no one should have to pay money to pet a duck," 2D said decisively.

******************

In a week they had a larger shed for the ducks built, and I could put my rake and clippers back in the original one. The ducks flapped happily around their larger waddling arena, and 2D added a second tub. He put two small wooden benches inside their fencing, and we sat out there frequently, letting the ducks become accustomed to our presence. They were friendly little animals; it was easy to get them to be sociable.

Next he and his father started working on the sheep shed. It had six stalls, and I thought that was too many, but he informed me that the goats and sheep could share living quarters. I forgot about the goats. The sheep were delivered two days later. They were both females, he assured me - two would stay two unless we desired otherwise. The vet came round to check on them and take a gander at the ducks. His name was James, and he said he got teased about it now and then. I didn’t understand why it was funny.

That night 2D appeared in my doorway and said, “This is why it’s funny." He tossed a worn paperback to me: “All Creatures Great and Small,” about a famous English veterinarian named James.

2D said, “It’s really good. My dad read it to me when I was little. You’ll learn a lot from it. I won’t have cows, though.”

After the first chapter I hunted him down to thank him for that.

We did the socialization thing with the sheep too, though we discovered the benches needed to be attached to the fencing because the sheep had a habit of knocking them over. With the help of treats and head scratches, the sheep proved as friendly as the ducks were.

He acquired his first customers shortly after the sheep arrived. Two small blond children walked from their house down the road. They tapped on the fence and asked politely if they could come in and see the animals. 2D welcomed them effusively, and proudly introduced them to all six inhabitants of his zoo-ette. The ducks came over willingly and allowed their heads to be stroked, and gobbled up a proffered handful of peas. Then the children checked out the sheep. 2D didn’t think they were ready to have children in the paddock with them yet, but brought them over to the fence so their wooly noggins could be patted.

“How did you find out about us?” the beaming zoo-keeper asked.

“Our mum said if we were looking for something to do we should go see what that nutter with the ducks was doing.”

“That’s great!” 2D enthused. “Tell her thanks for the press.”

The popcorn machine wasn’t operational yet, so I popped some in the microwave and they seemed happy enough with it.

Henry and Ava headed home to tell their mum what that nutter was up to.

******************

“We have to come up with a name,” he said that night, in my bed.

“For the sheep? Based on how they act, I’d say Nosey and Bitey.” I yawned and rolled over, snuggling my backside against him.

“No, the zoo.” He paused. “Those are good names for the sheep, though. But I think ‘Bite-y’ might worry some people.”

“I don’t have any ideas.”

He poked my shoulder. “Something witty? Or make it old farmy sounding? Something Yorkshire-ish? Or maybe we should use our names? It belongs to both of us, after all.”

Does it? None of this was my idea. I didn’t buy the animals. I didn’t put the fences together. I just didn’t object to any of it. It doesn’t belong to both of us. Those are the words I should have said. I didn’t. I just snuggled closer and closed my eyes, and waited for him to drop it so he could curl up next to me and hold me. So I could feel his heart beat with mine. That feeling I wanted to last forever. 

But “forever” isn’t something that only happens in bed. 

My desire for him never waned: his face, his hands, his hair, the way he stood. Even his voice: there's a crazy charm in his accent, and sincerity in his tone. He sang to himself as he went about his day - old stuff he loved as a kid: the Cure and the Human League. And commercial jingles. 

There was nothing about him I didn't love. It was that simple. 

And it was only natural that when our hearts beat together and we lay warm in each other's arms that the word "forever" drifted through my mind.

And given our history - individually and collectively - that was an unfathomable concept.

What do you plan for when you've lived like this for so long? My only goals had ever been short term: finish this song, release this album, shoot down this plane. I can't picture forever. I can't even say I had pictured all of them in my life forever. We never knew whether there would be another tour, another project. We just drifted back together when someone had an idea and wanted help. Or Murdoc kidnapped one of us.

Now I was in a relationship. I had a house, I guess, since half its inhabitants had wandered off. And I had acquired a yard full of animals and a small business license, somehow.

Is this "forever"? Is this how “forever” happens - it just sneaks up on us while we’re doing other things?

*****************

The goats arrived and for the first time since he left, I missed Murdoc. His reaction to these things would be priceless. 

We received two females of a breed that was not supposed to get very large. I was surprised by how soft their coats were. They were more destructive than the sheep, and Mr Pot was over nearly every day to repair and reinforce the barn, fencing, and benches.

We hung out with them in the evenings, laughing at their antics. There is nothing they won’t climb on, nothing they won’t attempt to eat. They just stand there, then all of a sudden something snaps inside them and do this little hop-kick thing. 

The vet stopped by regularly now. We had standing orders with the feed store. 2D hired a girl from town to work the stables. Lily was very energetic and knew a great deal about animals. She spent several weeks each summer on her uncle’s farm in Wales. She said she was well-accustomed to sheep, but couldn’t understand them without their Welsh accents. I loved her immediately, and explained that the blank looks she got from 2D at comments like these had nothing to do with her. She pushed to add ponies and took Mr Pot to a few of her friends’ farms so he could look at their horse barns. She kept calling 2D “Stuart” since that was how Mr Pot had introduced him. She proved as handy with a hammer and nails as she was with everything else. Once again a structure sprang up like magic.

He selected a plank to be used as a sign. He sketched out a little barn and smiling pony, and a little stick girl standing by with an apple in her hand. It was so cute I cried when I saw it. 

The top of the sign was blank.

He was still waiting for me to choose a name.

******************

I sat in my room with the curtains drawn. 

Was this the future I wanted? To be a farmer, carnival owner, zookeeper?

It's a very good life, if it's what you want. I wanted to make it my life; to find a way to fit myself into what he wanted. I wanted him to have what he wanted. I wanted to see that happiness and satisfaction in his face.

Where did I fit in?

Once I had every piece of my memory back I vowed I would never lose who I was again. That meant holding on to those memories: the little bits that when assembled correctly made a me. But memories are only the backdrop for who we are. We're becoming, evolving, growing every minute of every day. The now becomes the past, and the future becomes the now. I finished piecing together a foundation. I couldn't afford to be careless with what I was building on top of it.

How could I sort out my priorities? How could I even start when my future seemed mapped out completely - only awaiting my name on a piece of wood, like a signature on a contract? How could I be the most ME that I could be?

He never demanded I go along with any of this. The decision had been between him and the duck. I wanted to find a place in his dream here, but I didn't see it. All I felt was choices slipping from my hands, doors being closed. I wanted to know what was behind all of them, so I could choose which ones to close for myself.

That shouldn't mean closing the door that held him, and his dreams. I could never do that to him.

This was no good. I couldn't think here. I needed to clear my head of thought, my heart of emotion, and my sinuses of hay dust.

I pulled my bag from the closet and started stuffing clothes in.

******************

While I was packing, he tapped on my door. He poked his head in and smiled, then his smile faded as he saw me putting things in my bag.

"What's up? Are- are we going somewhere?"

I shook my head. "Just me."

He came in and sat down on the edge of my bed. So many of our most significant moments seem to take place like this. There's a metaphor there somewhere, but I had no interest pursuing it.

"Are you- are you leaving me?" His eyes widened. "Why does this look like you're leaving me?"

"Only for a little while. I just have to think about some things."

"You can't think about things here?"

"I need to clear my head."

He looked bewildered. "What is it? I can help you. You don't have to leave. Or I can go with you-"

"I just need a little time away. I'll be back."

"You leave and come back and leave again- It's different now! Innit? I don't know about the rest- I'm not sure what we all owe each other- but don't you feel you owe me anything as us?"

I shook my head again. "This isn't about us, it's-"

"The hell it isn't!" He stood up and took a step away. "This isn't something more to you? I thought you wanted this? You started this!"

"I'm coming back, 2D, I promise. I always come back."

"Yes, you do! You come back to me and I'm waiting. Or you text me and I come. Do you know how many times in my life I've missed you? But you always come back and I'm always there. So you can run off again as if nothing has changed, as if what we got here means nothing?" He stared down at the floor. "I thought we could be done with this sort of thing. I just thought maybe the future could be a little more peaceful."

"2D-"

He looked back up at me. "Don't say my name. You said I was yours and I said yes, you're right - I am. So I guess you can do whatever you want. You can toss me off when you're done with me."

"I'm not 'done with you'!"

"Yes, you are. You want to be gone- go."

He slammed the door. I heard him on the stairs, and then the front door slammed as well.

I finished packing with shaking hands and left for the airport. Lily waved goodbye, but I didn't see him. He must have been in the barn.

******************

In Morocco I basked in the heat and drowsed a couple hot days away. I'd been distressed over the state of the environment even before the utter disaster that was Plastic Beach. I believed the world could still be saved. But the world doesn't get saved at once. It gets saved in tiny pieces, and I started to realize I didn't have the education or training to get involved the way I wanted to. I had no background in any sort of science, and therefore nothing to offer some exciting environmental project I had imagined. I did make lots of calls, but all anyone wanted from me was money and celebrity endorsements. I was happy to provide both, but there was little satisfaction in it.

I had a ludicrous amount of experience doing an odd assortment of things, and none of them added up to any practical use for what I wanted to do. 

I left home thinking that a few days of reflection would show me the direction in which I was to move. I would find my purpose in a shining moment of clarity. I thought if I was alone, with no distractions at all, I could hear a voice telling me what I should be.

I heard nothing but my own heartbeat. Only mine.

I missed 2D. There are a thousand cliches for how a broken heart feels, and I’m sure I’ve used them. I had never felt it. I was empty. That’s all.

I flew to New York to visit Russ. I found him selling hamburgers from a food truck in Queens. His hot sauce was the secret of his success. It was available for people to douse their burgers and chips in, and sold by the bottle as well. I was impressed by his endeavor, especially the design of the label: a cartoon picture of Russ with exaggerated smoke coming out of his ears. I let him treat me to lunch. He had his junior manager take over: a young woman named Maris, whom he introduced as Kimberly's daughter.

"She runs the money part. Natural at it. Going to business school.”

I dipped a chip in the hot sauce and risked my tongue with a small taste. I immediately grabbed my water and gulped noisily.

Russ laughed. “I warned you!’

I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Yes, you did. It’s good stuff, Russel. It really is.”

“Ain’t for everyone, though,” he reassured me. “Murdoc still around?”

I shook my head. “He left a little more than two weeks after you. Needs to lie low, I guess.”

Russ nodded. “Lower the better.” He grabbed a chip off my plate. “What about 2D?”

I was going to be off-hand about it. Casual. He’s fine. No problems. Smooth sailing.

But Russel can read a person like a newspaper.

“I think I screwed up, Russ. It’s a long story - can I come see you later? We could have dinner.”

“Tell you what - I’ma take the rest of the day off.” We went back to the truck, and he told Maris. 

We walked through the city and I tried to outline everything that had happened, starting with the duck and ending with the blank sign sitting on the kitchen table like an accusation. We ended up in a park close to his apartment. We sat by a pretty pond with the branches of a weeping willow just touching the surface of the water. There were ducks. I tried not to let them bother me, but their waddling made me homesick.

Russ was quiet for a few moments. Then he said, “Yeah. You screwed up.”

I put my face in my hands, and leaned my elbows on my knees. “I think I got scared.”

He shifted to make himself more comfortable. “Out of all of us 2D had the closest to a normal childhood. We know what Murdoc’s was like. I was a guest in my own head half the time. And there’s you. But 2D, he had a nice mom and dad. Backyard, swing-set. In spite of all the brain damage that boy has suffered he’s the sanest of all of us. He just wants something normal. You do too, but you don’t know from normal. Neither does Murdoc. 2D's the only one could have given it to you.”

Could have. He could have. 

I screwed up.

I stayed with Russ for a couple days, sleeping on his couch and helping with the food truck. I wanted a taste of whatever his “normal” was. It involved Kimberly and Babette and their wide circle of friends and family. We played games together one night. Kimberly asked what Murdoc was up to, and looked troubled when I said I had no idea where he was. I spent a couple quiet evenings with Russel, watching movies, writing music, face-timing with some of the artists we had worked with through the years. It was peaceful and deliciously mundane.

Before my presence became more a burden than blessing, I left Russ with my sincerest thanks. He squeezed me tight and kissed my cheek.

I went to Switzerland for a couple days for another go at self-examination.

I could go to school. I could do some volunteer work, environmental club. Small pieces. I could start my own blog. I could do all of that from home.

I could write my songs, and play my instruments, and create as much as I wanted to.

I could become the woman I wanted to be - not in bits to be fastened together into something cohesive, but growing day by day from that base I had assembled.

Nothing was stopping me. Nothing had stopped me. I was holding myself back, and blaming someone else.

After Russ and Murdoc left, 2D and I kept our separate rooms at the house - apart but together. With a well-worn path between them, but our own space. We were already making that work, and I hadn’t seen it.

After eight days away, I went home.

******************

I decided to see if 2D was inside before checking the zoo.

Murdoc was the only one in the house. “You know, for someone who pisses and moans about people just leaving without warning, you sure do it a lot.”

“I thought I’d be back before you.” I stood in the studio doorway, listening to him play.

“Yeah, well I come home to nothing at all. Nobody to make tea. Nobody to buy the groceries. Be lucky if we don’t have another woodland creature in residence, maybe in the linen cupboard this time.”

“We have enough creatures.”

“No f-f-fucking kidding. I can’t believe the brainless wonder put this together. Must have had a picture book.”

I said nothing, remembering 2D telling me that he figured out the duck habitat by looking at pictures.

He played a few notes, then said, “I named the goats.”

I smiled. “I thought you would enjoy them. What did you name them?”

“Rozier and Belias. Figured since I might have - um- jeopardized my standing in the demonic domains. A little groveling never hurts.”

I nodded. “2D’s outside?”

“No, he’s with you? He went with you.”

“No. He didn’t. I took a- a trip on my own for a bit. He was here when I left.”

“Well, I haven’t seen him. I got home two days ago.”

“Oh. Who’s at the zoo, then?”

“I only saw his dad and that girl with the long hair. Ivy? Lily? Rose? Some plant, she said. I’m for roasting the ducks and having some nice mutton shank myself, but I do love those goats.”

I walked outside and headed over to the barns. There was a small family by the sheep, and three children petting the ducks while their mums talked, leaning on the fence posts. Lily was laughing and chatting with a little boy as she led him around on a pony, while another pony nibbled grass in a new paddock. 

The ticket booth stood by the popcorn stand. I saw the compromise he and his father must have made: There was a plexiglass lockbox attached, with a placard reading: “FREE OF CHARGE! Donations gratefully welcomed." It was stuffed with bills and coins.

On the other side of the gate I could see the back of the sign attached to the fence. I walked slowly down the drive to look.

The barn and pony he had drawn were brightly painted. Above were the words, “Ducky’s Petting Zoo.”

******************

I found Mr Pot in the pony shed, talking to a teenage boy. He looked up when I entered and his face grew grim. He excused himself from his conversation and took a few steps toward me.

"The way I understand this, you don't own this zoo or want it. So you can head on out, now."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Course I do. No need for you to."

I turned and walked back into the house in a daze.

"Get a pony ride? Since your regular ride has gone on holiday?" Murdoc cackled loudly.

I walked past him and up to my room. 

I tried calling. To my surprise I was able to leave a message. I almost expected my number to be blocked.

"It's- it's me. I screwed up. I'm sorry. Please come home."

I took a shower and changed, leaving my phone on the vanity. Put on some comfy pajamas. It would be getting cooler at night now.

I walked down the hall to his room. The mess was the same. He had made his bed, though, which was unusual. His magic 8 ball sat on top of his dresser. I wondered if he had asked it where I was.

I went over to his bed and laid down on it. After a moment I stood up and pulled back the blankets and got under them. I pictured him kicking them off the night he had shown me the sheep. I put my head on his pillow and pulled the sheet up and smelled him.

******************

I came home having realized everything I wanted to do could happen right here. I felt enormous freedom in my enlightenment. Now I felt trapped. Stuck in the house with Murdoc. I didn't want to go outside. I'd been banished from the zoo. His zoo. I would feel painfully conspicuous.

Her babies were grown and gone, but Mrs Bunty knew a good thing and had no intention of leaving. She had snacks and a sofa. Murdoc would no doubt bring her in for winter. Could a stoat be litter-box trained?

I joined Murdoc in the studio to find he had recorded the bass lines I'd written for him a few weeks back. They sounded good. I laid down some guitar over the top but without 2D and Russ that was about as far as we could go. We could use Russ's Hip-Hop machine. Needed to check with him on that.

I checked around online and found a gardening club in town. It was about as close to an environmental club as was available so I made a note of the next meeting. I started my own environmental blog, promoting all the organizations I had contacted while I was in Morocco. I found that the University of California in the states had an environmental science program I could enroll in and take classes online.

There was satisfaction in this: everything I thought I needed to find elsewhere really was obtainable right here, where I wanted to be. The zoo operated fine without me. I wished I had seen all of this sooner.

******************

The next day I attended the environmental club's meeting in town. No one recognized me, and that was nice. They were planting bulbs on some newly donated land, and shared the design plans with me. A pond was suggested for a spring project. I mentioned koi, and they loved the idea. I left feeling valued and civic-minded.

I registered for online courses. I even changed my clothes when I filled out the forms and paid my tuition, to put myself in a studious state of mind.

And later that day I looked out the glass doors of the studio and saw 2D, talking to his father. I stopped writing. My pulse quickened and I felt hot. I drank him in: he was wearing jeans and a striped shirt, with a grey hoodie. He had wellies on; they were already mucky, so he must have been in the barns. He ran his hand through his hair as he talked and I forgot how to breathe for a moment. He pointed at the duck yard and spoke. His father nodded in agreement, and they turned back toward the zoo. As they walked away he put his arm around his dad.

Murdoc appeared out of nowhere. "Oh- mmm. Prodigal son and what-not. This feels awkward. No loving reunion?"

"I don't think so," I whispered.

"I know what- let's go get smashed."

"I don't want to go out. I can't go out there right now."

"I know what- let's stay home and get smashed."

I watched 2D disappear into the barn. I turned to look at Murdoc. "Okay."

We drank beer and did shots of whiskey. Then we watched cartoons until we fell asleep on the sofa. When I woke a few hours later, Murdoc was snoring on the floor. I stumbled to the bathroom, threw up, and laid on the cool tile floor, hating myself. I made some tea and dry toast, and sat at the kitchen table. It had been an enjoyable evening. I was paying a price for it, but Murdoc achieved his goal of distracting me from things for a while.

I spent the rest of the day watching more cartoons and working on my blog.

That afternoon Murdoc went out, so when I heard the door open, I thought it was him returning. I was still cross-legged on the sofa with my laptop balanced on my knees. Mrs Bunty lay stretched out alongside me.

I heard steps approaching. "There's hot water for tea, if you want some."

"It's me," 2D said quietly.

I looked up at him and swallowed.

"I don't wanna go on avoiding each other," he said. "Me avoiding you, anyway. Dad said he didn't tell you I was just at home."

"You were at your parents house?”

He shrugged. "Where else would I go?" He stood with his hands clasped in front of him. "Is it okay if we talk?"

"Would you like some tea? There's-"

"Yeah, I know." He turned and I followed him into the kitchen.

We sat at the table with our cups, cream pitcher and sugar bowl between us. 

"There's no way I could have stayed here. Dad and I come over every day to work, sometimes we trade off."

"It looks wonderful."

"Yeah, funny how I was able to do all of it without you."

I winced.

"So if that was the problem- why you said you needed to leave so you could 'figure things out' - you really didn't have to. You didn't have to help with any of it. I never actually asked you to."

I bowed my head. "I realized that. None of it was in my way. I could do whatever I wanted to right here.”

“I coulda told you that.”

“I felt like I was being drawn into something I didn’t see myself doing. I should have just said that.”

“Only you didn’t. You just left.” He stared at me for several seconds. “I can’t forgive you for that. You didn’t give me any chance to prove I would support you in whatever you wanted. Which you honestly should have known better than anyone else in the world.”

I looked down at the table. "I know."

"So- If you were thinking this is going to end with us making up and then off we pop to the bedroom that's not happening. We can go back to being friends but that's it. I'm not yours anymore. You threw me away. I'm not giving you the chance to do it again."

******************

Murdoc came in the door as 2D was going out. 

"Ah, there's faceache - now all's right with the world. You two kids kiss and make up, mmm?"

2D gave me a quick glance, and pushed past Murdoc. I put my head down on the table.

Murdoc slammed the door. Then opened again. "I can get another front man, you know! One thass not been lobotomized!" He shut the door, muttering, "I'm not above running over him again."

He came over and awkwardly patted my shoulder. "All right now, he's not worth all that. Not at all. Not in the least. Not even a little bit. Tell you what- let's go out. You didn't want to last night so you have to say yes tonight."

I shook my head. "No, I don't, Murdoc."

He sat down heavily on the chair across from me just vacated by 2D.

"He's got rocks for brains and this proves it."

"Thought you hated us together?" I sniffled.

"Oh, nooo. No. No-no-no-no. Just him. But- this illustrates pretty well why you don't tap yer bandmates, eh?"

I put my head down again. Was that all this was? Was that all people thought this was? This was a culmination of a lifetime of longing. And then its rapid, stupid, ignorant, selfish, short-sighted destruction.

"I can't do this right now, Murdoc." I stood and headed to the kitchen door.

"Well, maybe tomorrow night? We'll go find some prime beef for you. Best way to get over someone, right?"

I just walked away.

******************

I called Russ a couple of days later. I related what happened when I came back. He was sympathetic.

"Wouldn't tell you to get your hopes up," he said, "but all the abuse Murdoc's given him through the years, and he still loves him. Course, he never slept with Murdoc. If he did- you wanna get tested."

"Murdoc and I were wondering if we could lay some of your beats over the stuff we’re working on. I’ll send it on to you and you can see what you think.”

“Sounds good.”

Murdoc and I were in the studio every day after that. Two of the tracks were album-worthy, no question. We idly discussed whether we should do that, or create another release series. We’d have to make some calls and find collaborators, and that sounded like too much work to both of us just at the moment.

“We could do an instrumental album, you know,” Murdoc suggested. “We don’t always have to have all of us. We didn’t have you or Russ for Plastic Beach. And then there was that- other- thing you did.”

“You’re right. We’ve done it before. We could do it again.”

“Then stop staring at his bloody keyboard and get over here. I’m not mixing this shit alone.”

******************

The worst of it was seeing him working at the zoo. He was there every day. Now that I knew he was here and he had said his piece he didn’t avoid me any more. He started coming in to fill up his water bottle and use the bathroom. At first he just walked by me without acknowledging me, but he moved onto a nod, and once he even smiled.

He, his father, and Lily started winterizing the zoo. The days grew shorter and nippier. The “Ducky’s Petting Zoo” sign now had a smaller piece of wood hanging below it outlining shortened hours and fewer days as fall progressed, though they had no intent to shut down completely. I thought he should add a reindeer for the holidays but didn’t have the nerve to suggest it.

Murdoc and I were in the studio one chilly afternoon when we looked up to see 2D standing by the doorway. He had a thermos in his hand; he must have come in to make some cocoa or tea.

“What's that?” He looked at me. “Did you write it? It sounds like you.”

I nodded. “We’ve been using the Hip Hop machine and sending tracks back and forth with Russ.”

He nodded, then took a sip from his thermos. “It sounds- good. Really good.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded, then turned to go.

Murdoc spoke quietly. “Could use a keyboard track on the other one. If you’re not so busy. If you haven’t forgotten how to play. Or that you actually are in a band.”

2D turned back. “You told me you could find another front-man.”

“Yeah, well. Neither of the fucking goats can sing. Buggered their audition.”

2D actually smiled, but he gave a slight shake of his head and went back outside.

“Welllllll, I tried for you. Can’t say I never made an effort to lower the collective IQ of the band for your sake.” Murdoc hit playback and slid the volume up before I could respond.

******************

The garden club gave me the pond as a personal project, and I showed them my plans at every meeting. I researched different breeds of koi and it made me think of 2D in the restaurant in Osaka. I mulled ornamentals to place around it; invasive species are an issue. We dispatched ourselves in teams to do fall pruning about town. I was making friends outside the sphere of musicians, and that was- interesting. I still declined invitations for girls nights out. Not something I needed to try to know it wasn’t for me. But I appreciated being invited. And I loved the meetings.

My grades were good. I was in a club. I craved “normal,” Russ had told me. He said 2D was the one who could give that to me. Russ had his point, and 2D was my problem at the time, but I could do normal myself. If you didn’t include Murdoc.

******************

I dreamed we were in our field of flowers again, warm and satiated, and gazing at the azure sky. He was singing softly to me. I woke up and the sudden feeling of loss as I realized once again that part of my life had ended was agonizing.

I sat up. I could still hear him singing.

I made my way to the stairs, and started to tiptoe down. I could hear his keyboard, the little portable one. All was quiet for a moment, then I heard him play the same phrase three times. It was my song. It was the song he heard Murdoc and me playing.

I covered my mouth and squeezed back tears. Silence again for another few minutes, and then his voice. He was singing too softly for me to make out the words. He was writing lyrics for my song.

I sat rocking back and forth on the stairs. After another ten minutes or so, I heard him stand, set the keyboard down on a side table, and gather up some papers. He turned the studio lights out and left the house.

I didn't sleep at all for the rest of the night.

******************

The next morning I checked the studio to see if he had left any of his music. He hadn't. I sat down on the sofa, where he had been sitting last night. I picked up his keyboard and sat with it on my lap for a bit, picturing him playing. Then I put it back and worked on the drum line for the newest piece Murdoc had tossed at me.

After a couple hours the front door slammed and I heard movement in the kitchen. I decided I needed a cup of tea very much.

Mr Pot was standing at the sink, filling the kettle.

I stopped short in the doorway, and he looked up at me. He plugged the kettle in, then turned to lean against the counter, arms folded. “Not who you were looking for, hmm?”

I shook my head. “No. I was working on something Murdoc wrote- and I thought maybe-”

“Any excuse to see him and try to talk to him. Is what you thought.”

I bristled a bit at this. “He is still in a band. I know it still matters to him.”

He turned and removed a heavy mug from the cupboard, then the canister of cocoa from the next one over. Spooning it into the mug he said, “It does. A lot of things matter to him.” He poured the hot water in, stirred, and then turned back to face me. “You do. I had been under the impression he mattered to you.”

“He does. Very much.”

“Then I surely would love to understand how you felt you could just leave like that.”

“I wasn’t leaving. I was- taking a break. I had some things I needed to think about.”

He nodded and sipped his cocoa. “Oh, of course. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left his mother for days on end so I could think about things.”

“I told him I would come back.” It sounded stupid even to my ears.

Mr Pot spoke a bit more gently. “You’ve known him for twenty years. You should know that what you say and what he hears ain’t always the same thing.” He took another sip. “What he heard was, ‘I have a problem and I won’t let you help me. I won't even tell you what it is.’ That’s what you were really saying to him.”

“I know that now.”

“And you also know he never expected you to do anything at all as far as this place was concerned. All he ever wanted was to include you, if you wanted. He feels bad that he might have pushed you too far, but if that’s how you felt you might have told him.”

This was going very much the same way as my conversation with 2D. All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and say, “I know” again.

“Well.” He pushed himself away from the countertop and headed for the door. “I’ll let him know you were looking for him.” He went back outside into the grey, blustery day.

******************

2D came in a bit later, hat and shoulders covered with fresh snow. I wanted to go brush it off for him. Instead I offered to make him some cocoa. To my surprise he said yes.

I made a cup for myself, and took it back to the living room with me. I had some sketches for the koi pond on the table, and had printed out pictures of plants I was considering.

I left his cocoa on the counter. After he used the bathroom he came into the living room holding the mug, sipping and blowing on it. He sat down on the wingback chair, and eyed my scattered papers.

"What are those for?"

"I joined the garden club in town. And I'm in charge of making this pond in the spring, for the new park on Miller. I’m having koi in it, and some other fish, too. Russ took me to a park in Queens. I'm trying to use some of the same impressions: the shapes, and the trees- here-” I shuffled through the sheets to find the right picture, “that touch the surface of the water."

"That's really pretty." He was quiet for a moment. "D’you- do you think you could do one for the zoo? In the spring? I think the ducks would really love that. They need something more than the big tubs."

"I would be happy to do that for you."

He hung his head over for a moment or two. Then he stood. "Great. Um- can you make a couple sketches, maybe? Then I can show them to the ducks and see what they think."

"Of course.” I remembered something I had wanted to tell him. “I was thinking, since you’re staying open, maybe you should try getting a reindeer? If you can? I don’t know if you can but it would be great for Christmas.”

2D sat back down. “We were actually thinking about that. Mum said kids would love to have pictures with them. Put ‘em in elf hats and what-not. I said maybe Dad could dress up as Father Christmas. He wasn’t wild about that.”

“You could always ask Murdoc,” I said mischievously.

He laughed. “Happy memories, not nightmares.” He seemed to remember the mug in his hand, and took a sip. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh- you’re welcome.”

“Not the cocoa. Well, that but also- just talking. This is nice.”

I could only smile in response.

He stood, set the mug down so he could button his coat, then picked it back up and turned to go. He took a step, and then I heard him whisper, very softly, “I miss you.” And then he stepped quickly to the door and went back outside.

I sat in disbelief for a moment, then forced myself to get back to work.

******************

Classes ended, and the garden club met less often now. I had more time to write and shop for presents. I expanded the pond project to include a full garden and gazebo on the allotted piece of land. I didn’t know whether or not they would be interested, but it was good practice.

I worked on the sketches for the new duck pond as well. As it grew colder, 2D spent more and more time in the house, and it was inevitable that he began to contribute in the studio. He didn’t show me the lyrics he was writing for my song, but he did have a complete piece ready for us. There is no denying that sometimes 2D just doesn’t get what's going on around him, but he is not an idiot. No one could write and play like that and be an idiot. I thought about how Kimberly had referred to him: “simple-minded sweetheart.” Funny how she hit it so precisely after knowing him mere hours.

Mr Pot’s sarcastic comment about always leaving when one needed time to think rested heavily on my head. Russ had pointed out that 2D had the closest to a ‘normal’ childhood. If one discounts the incident about him falling out of the tree when he was 11, nothing remarkable happened to him until the fateful day Murcoc ran him over with the Vauxhall Astra. After that everything that happened to him was quite remarkable. But he had been raised in a secure environment - and he had a mother and father who clearly loved each other. He had an example of a happy relationship right there, all of his life. And it made sense that once he was in a relationship he would desire and expect the same thing his parents had.

Nothing - nothing - about my childhood had been normal. I never saw a good relationship. I never saw a happy marriage. I never had anything idyllic. The first thing that happened after I was rescued from the destruction of the program that created me was joining the band. Nothing was normal about that. I had no baseline to work from. I never had to think about how my actions would affect everyone else. I moved from one thing to another and recovered the best I could from the horrible parts. And if I needed to leave, I left.

It was no wonder our expectations had led us to an impasse. I didn’t want to find excuses for my actions; fact is I didn’t need to. When judged by normal people like Mr and Mrs Pot, my actions were illogical and hurtful. When judged by abnormal people like Murdoc and me, they were completely understandable.

It’s all in one's viewpoint. Would I have a chance to explain this to 2D?

******************

I had to make my moment.

The next day he was in the studio by himself. I walked in without hesitation, and perched on Murdoc's stool.

"Would you be willing to talk about our situation?"

He looked down at his keyboard for several seconds. When he raised his head he looked quite composed. "Yeah. We can do that."

"I've been thinking a great deal about a conversation I had with Russ, and one I had with your dad a few days ago."

He looked mildly surprised by that.

"Turns out I can think without leaving the country."

He did not smile at my pitiful joke.

"And that's what this is about. It can't really be about anything else. Everything was perfect until I hit something I needed to resolve. And I resolved it as I would have at any other point in my life: by myself and far away."

He moved the keyboard onto the table and leaned forward a bit.

"Russ pointed out to me that you're the only one of us who kind of had a normal childhood. You had a house, and parents who love you, and- you weren't tormented by demons. That put you way ahead of the rest of us. Your parents are wonderful people. You got to see that growing up. You saw how it should work. I never did. And that's what the problem is. You know how to do this and I don't. You saw it and I didn’t. I know how to do me. I don't know how to do us. And you do."

I was proud of myself for getting all of it in a coherent fashion. It was over to him to see if any of it connected.

He lowered his head down onto his knees, and jammed his hands underneath his thighs. He sat like that for a few minutes. He uncurled slowly and looked at me. "Russ is right. You're right. About him being right. I guess I was wrong."

I shook my head. "It's not about right or wrong. Well, he's right. And I'm right about him being right. You're right about that." I reviewed that in my head. "But I wasn't right. And I wasn't wrong. And you weren't right, and you weren't wrong. We’re standing side-by-side, and I think we’re looking in the same direction, but we’re each used to our own way of getting there. You figured a slow drive together, and I was zipping off on the M1 by myself."

He was quiet for a bit. Then he reached over and drew a black folder out from under his keyboard, which teetered a bit. He steadied it with his other hand. He flipped through the folder and handed me a sheet of music. My music. To which he had added his lyrics.

I read them. "There's no last verse," I said, feeling lost in time.

He sat rubbing his thighs. "I dunno how it ends yet."

I sighed and handed it back. "I never want to rush the creative process. But-"

"I know." He stood and left the studio.

****************

The next day his father wasn't feeling well, and Lily had the day off. He asked if I would help with the animals. I fed the ducks and chipped the light layer of ice off the tubs. I asked them if 2D had shown them pictures of their future pond yet. They quacked and I decided I would take that as a yes. I headed into the sheep barn and started cleaning out the stables. Nosey nibbled on the edge of my coat. "Knock that off," I told her. "You're not Bitey."

"I actually renamed Bitey." 2D said from the doorway. "She's Snuggles now."

I moved into her stall. "Do you live up to your name? Bites or snuggles?" She bumped my hand affectionately with her nose. I scratched her head, and finished with her stable. Then I fed both of them while 2D took care of the goats. He had finished with the ponies while I lingered with the ducks, so we were all set. I hung the pitchfork on the wall. I started to push the barn door open, but he reached over my shoulder and stopped my hand.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his head on top of mine.

"I've never been as hurt in my whole life as when you left. Truth is, part of me understood that's just the way you do things. I just wanted to think you would do things differently for my sake." He sighed. "I'm still yours."

He held me tighter for a moment, then loosened his grip so I could turn around. He bent to kiss me, and then I laid my head against his chest and closed my eyes. I had missed hearing that heartbeat. I’m still not sure what forever could possibly mean to us. I’ll just hold on to this for as long as I can.


End file.
